Inspiration is a funny thing. It seems like the more you think about it, the less it can do for you. Inspiration can’t be cultivated, sought after, harnessed, it has to be found! Or so people say. With all the contradictory stuff that’s been said about inspiration, this article is meant to pierce through the veil, and to reveal to you useful secrets that you know to be true, but may have forgotten.
First, why do people want to be inspired? It might seem an obvious question, but we should never take those for granted. People want inspiration for different reasons. For example, anyone seeking to motivate themselves, to live a better life, to do better at this or that, to find something worth while, they’re all looking for inspiration. Inspiration ends all doubts, it reaffirms the will, it helps you ignore the unimportant. There are no hard choices when the path is clear and the answers are known.
But can inspiration be cultivated? At first glance it would seem as though the answer to that is no. How could it? The more we reach for it, the further away it seems to get from us. The more we want to be inspired, the less we remember what true inspiration even feels like. We cheapen it. We refer to it as flow states. Sum it up to passion. Wish we could only just touch that forbidden fruit again. But we’ve been kicked out of the garden and we are not welcome back while we moan about needing our fix. Inspiration likes to surprise us, when our minds least expect it. We could be in a deep conversation, at a bar, nowhere near our work! Perhaps we’ve just laid in bed and shut off all the lights. Inspiration can’t be found, it ambushes you!
If in fact it is impossible to cultivate inspiration, it is extremely important that we grab hold of inspiration when it shows itself. The worst thing we could do would be to let it run away after it surprises us. Do not let go of inspiration until it’s effects have worn off. Turn all the spirit’s blood into ink, into art, into sweat, or into whatever creation your inspiration has illuminated. We only have so many opportunities to spend time with our inspiration.
For example; we shall only be granted a few brilliant ideas in our life. This is a fact. One day you will die, and your brilliant ideas can finally be numbered. Depending on who you are, that number might be small, but it’ll be even smaller if you didn’t take time to remember your brilliant ideas! This number will be extremely small if you let yourself fall asleep after inspiration reveals itself to you. Trust me, that idea will be gone in the morning! It will be an extremely small list if you don’t excuse yourself from a conversation with a friend or lover to write down the idea you just had.
Of course, inspiration does not only manifest as a brilliant idea. As we know, inspiration is a state of being, in which answers are obvious, in which effort is unnecessary. The eureka moment is always followed by intense work. Inspiration could guide you through a perfect workout as much as it could lead someone to design a revolutionary rocket fuel. Inspiration can illuminate whatever darkness you’ve been wrestling with. But you do need to be wrestling with something. Inspiration will not appear to you if nothing matters to you.
Inspiration may only show itself to you momentarily, and may appear to take long breaks between appearances, but it is always working. Toiling in the deepest parts of your brain, engineering solutions to problems; it hopes to god that it figures it out before you do, so that it may impress you with it’s good work. I believe that the mechanism which provides us with inspiration is one that we evolved over time; there is surely a mechanism in the brain that keeps working on problems after your conscious mind has given up trying.
Inspiration is therefore a lot like those brilliant employees that the world never hears about because the CEO take’s all the credit. But, don’t forget that without a problem to fix, without something to care about, without a CEO to put the employees to work, all those wonderful employees, and your inspiration, they sit on their asses all day and do nothing.
Now, what if you can’t wait for inspiration to reveal itself to you? What if you need regular interactions with your inspiration? You have lots to get done and not much time to do it. You can’t be waiting around for answers! You need to know now! If that’s you, there’s a few things you can do. Think of them as setting regular appointments with those model employees of yours, to ensure that they’re working on the problem that you want solved.
First, you should always make sure that your environment is conducive to inspiration. Take the time to make it an appealing place for you. Clean the place, paint the walls, put up posters and pictures, flags, art, anything. It just has to be stuff you like, stuff that reminds you of what you like, of what you’re trying to do. Help your sub-conscious help you by situating it in the most awesome place you can make for yourself. Perhaps you work best at a certain coffee shop, so go there. But also take notes, notice what’s common in those places you like working, and try to bring those things together at home so that they always surround you.
Second, keep a schedule, and put things in it. Unfortunately, it has been my experience that having a blank schedule is conducive to doing nothing all day. Jocko Willink often says that Discipline Equals Freedom, which is counter intuitive to the way most people think of discipline. His point is simple. Your freedom to be whoever you want to be depends on your discipline to work hard and not fuck off. Many people might think that freedom is not synonymous with discipline. That freedom means that you do whatever floats your boat whenever you want. This is the surest path to doing nothing, and your inspiration will follow you there. Having an open schedule does not help relax, it does not help inspiration to strike by unburdening the mind. It does nothing for you except slow your momentum. Help yourself inspire yourself by regularly attending to problems that you mean to solve.
This leads to the third point. Momentum. Think of momentum as a measure of your quantity of movement. It is not only dependent on speed, but also on the mass that has been brought up to speed. Trains have higher momentum than fast cars. The interesting thing about momentum is that once you are up to speed, it is relatively easy to maintain it. As we all know from Newton, a thing in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by an external force. This is true for our selves as well. You want to give yourself the highest amount of motion, because the higher it is, the more you will get done. Moreover, you want to address heavy problems of substance, that are important to you. You just have to be careful not to let external forces slow you down. Inspiration is inside you, and therefore if you slow down, it slows down. The faster the pace of your life, the more frequently you will run into your inspiration.
Fourth, don’t go it alone. I am constantly guilty of trying to do everything myself. I hate asking for help. I feel like I cheated when I get it. But this is not about help, this is about creating a network of people around you who reinforce your interests. When you meet someone you find interesting, befriend them, keep them around, introduce them to your friends. It is ideal that you befriend those who impress you the most. You want to keep those people close. Then, try to meet their friends. Meet their family. Chances are, there’s a lot more where that comes from.
The key is to have people around you who inspire you. And don’t question it too much. If you meet a character who is nothing like you, but you like being around them, just enjoy. They’ll teach you something about yourself soon enough if you stick around. Inspiration is a fickle bastard, but if you’re surrounded by inspirational characters, then you’ll encounter it a lot more often. Let it affect you, and beware of envy, the enemy of inspiration. Let yourself be impressed, be happy for the achievements of others. Congratulate them without any worry at not being able to measure up. The chances are that they’re impressed by you too if they’re spending time with you. If you surround yourself with people who impress you, who interest you, and who think about those same things which you think about, you’ll do better at everything, and inspiration will have unlimited access to you.
Importantly, you don’t always need to meet these people. In fact, there are a huge number of dead individuals that you might love to keep around in your life. It’s simpler than you might think. Reading their memoirs, or biographies, or watching documentaries about them, it’s like if they were there with you if you don’t over think it. Their ideas, personalities, and emotions can transcend time and space to infect you with their intuitions and provide you with inspiration. This even works for fictional characters. Spend enough time with a fictional character and you might find yourself stealing their mannerisms and thought patterns.
With these four steps you can certainly increase your encounters with inspiration. But what if you want to command inspiration to appear at will? I’m not sure that I have the answer, but I suspect that this is impossible. You can promote the likelihood of encountering inspiration, but you cannot expect to command it. No more so than you can command yourself to understand something that you’ve been struggling with. But if the goal is productivity, then I suspect that once the usefulness of inspiration has been maximized, the following step entails the promotion of something altogether different. Something that you can command, given enough training. You must develop confidence, because confidence can often bestow upon the brave a touch of luck that seems to elude the rest of us. We will explore this, and the relationship between confidence and inspiration in our next post.
It is difficult to write casually now that I’ve begun to write online. I haven’t written anything in the last few months because I lack of inspiration. There is simply nothing that I have felt compelled to put down, and therefore I have not written anything. But at the same time, I am still quite passionate about many things. I have read a lot, thought a lot, and discussed many things with many people in the intervening time between now and my last post. Why then do I struggle to put pen to paper about these topics? The answer is simple; I’m confused. I have unwittingly decided to only write when it benefits my blog. I made this decision unconsciously due to the thrill I felt at writing for an audience as opposed to writing for myself. In the previous years, I would write 500 words a day, as a way to maintain my skill in woodcraft while studying engineering, a discipline which frowns on proper spelling and punctuation. The 500 words I wrote could and would be about anything at all I felt like discussing with myself. Occasionally, I would return to my previous thoughts and add my next 500 words to the last; but now that I have a blog, many subjects have become off limits to me. My 500 words could be about anything, my blog posts can’t; I want to publish well formed thoughts, not ramblings. This problematically disqualifies most of my daily thoughts!
As I witness this in myself today, I remind myself that the problem is recurrent. Some years ago I was deeply involved in music, and made this same mistake. Then, I was playing music all the time. A minimum of 5 hours a day, playing in school, practicing numerous instruments, playing in a jazz trio, a jazz ensemble, a wind instrument band, a choir, and in my own jamming with friends on instruments ranging from guitar, clarinet, saxophone, piano and some others. I wrote and recorded songs alone and with friends. Music truly was my life. Eventually, I began to perform in front of crowds. Concerts for school at first, then competitions, events, weddings. We played a lot. Eventually I slowed down, I did not pursue music in university, I felt like it was not quite what I wanted to do, and therefore time was not automatically set aside for it. Slowly, my musical friends moved to other cities, and I slowly stopped playing in front of people for lack of offers and of people I could bring together to form a band. I could not easily bear to play music for myself after that. These days, I still play, pretty well too, but for no more than an hour a week or so. Having felt the rush and satisfaction of playing for an audience, playing for myself became boring.
This transition is so difficult to understand when one knows that before ever playing for others, we had to fall in love with playing for ourselves. I must be careful not to fall out with writing in the same way. Writing matters to me; it has allowed me a new form of self-expression after music became mundane. Moreover, it has become one the primary methods by which I can make sense of the world around me and of my place within it. I get to draw satisfaction from the expression of my innermost feelings about this and that, it makes me happy, and it draws out the best in me. I must then write and write more! To keep the flow and relevant and constant, so that when inspiration strikes, my fingers will be nimble and practiced. After all, I always felt that masterpieces of all kind were the results of many shots on goal more than they were products of pure inspiration. Thus we must all be very busy with those things we love, in order to help the world be greater than it already is.
The irony at the end of all this is that while having nothing to write about for nearly three months, I finally broke the cycle and wrote an article about having nothing to write about. Stay tuned for more truly enlightened stupidities, coming soon!
Everyone has heard of the Trojan War, and this is astonishing! For three thousand years this story has fascinated humankind, and as a little boy, I found my own passion for the story. As you might expect from a child, I didn’t immediately care much for history, study or difficult books, but I became captivated nonetheless. These stories were just the thing for a young boy who loved the thought of adventure.
First thanks to a video game, and later through
books, I learned everything I could about it. The legend of the Trojan War,
where to start? I read of a boy raised by shepherds who became a prince. I read
of a woman so beautiful that an army set off in ten thousand ships after her
when she ran away with this same prince; I read of epic heroes blessed by the
gods themselves; I read of a terrible siege that lasted 10 years, where one of
the greatest cities on earth was destroyed by a vengeful Greek Army. What I
read, the Iliad, was the oldest surviving work of fiction in western
literature, and it’s survival has been assured all these millennia because of its
breathtaking content. For me, and for the last 150 generations of humans, the
great and mythical city of Troy has inspired a passion for the past.
But was it really fiction? Through time, the
general feeling about this has changed a lot. In Roman and Greek times, it was
taken for granted that the story was true. For instance, we are told that
Alexander the Great stopped at the ruins of Troy to pay homage to his ancestor
Achilles, who died in the conflict. But by the 19th century, it was generally
accepted that the tale of the Trojan War was nothing more than fiction, and
this is understandable: the story places Gods and mythical beings in prominent
roles; the human characters are over the top; and the sequel to the story, the
Odyssey, is among the most exciting fantasy adventures anyone can stumble upon
to this day, involving mythical beasts, magic and gods. By the 19th century,
the industrial world had moved past this far away world, and held its
superstitions with contempt. Troy was nothing more than a fairy tale. Or so it
Despite this overwhelming prejudice, some nonetheless believed the stories, and staked their reputations and fortunes in order to prove that they were based on fact. In doing this, they would give birth to the science and discipline known today as Archaeology. These characters were exciting in their own right, and when I was a child learning of the Trojan War, my interest shifted from the story of the ancient heroes to that of those moderns who went looking for the ruins of Troy. We might want to call them archaeologists, only they might deserve to be called treasure hunters. At the time, I did not worry so much about these distinctions. I wanted to know if this story was true. I thought that would make it so much better somehow. Could the mythical city of Troy actually be real!?
Heinrich Schliemann, Self-Made Millionaire
Heinrich Schliemann believed it was real. Born in 1822 to a poor pastor, in a region of modern day Germany, Schliemann became a fascinating story in his own right. He had very little schooling, and by the age of 14 he had to quit school due to his parents’ poverty. For the remainder of his adolescence, he got a job, apprenticing to a grocer. Schliemann tells us that from a very young age, he too grew a fond appreciation for the Trojan Myth.
Eventually, Schliemann’s promise of a comfortable
life as grocer was interrupted by the fortunes of life; he was injured. He had
to quit his job, and he took new one as a cabin boy on a steamship heading to
Venezuela. After twelve days on board, his second prospective career was also
cut short as the ship sank in a storm, and a 19-year old Schliemann had to
start over from the shores of the Netherlands.
From this point on, a pattern emerged in
Schliemann’s life. He exemplified the driven man who would try anything and
everything to get rich. He took every risk, traveled across oceans at hints of
opportunities, started businesses, wrote books and learned languages
everywhere. Schliemann was apparently quite the people person; charismatic,
very talented, and very intelligent. His worldly abilities, as well as his
ability to adapt socially, is best demonstrated by his grasp of many languages.
After having been sent to Russia by an
import/export firm as their general agent in charge of negotiation and
representation, Schliemann taught himself Russian and Greek. In doing so, he
developed a system of learning languages by which he claimed he could learn a
new language in just six weeks. That’s a bold claim, but by the end of
Schliemann’s life, he supposedly could converse in English, French, Dutch, Spanish,
Portuguese, Swedish, Polish, Italian, Greek, Latin, Russian, Arabic, and
Turkish as well as German. Apparently, he would also write in his diary in
whatever local language he was immersed.
Schliemann would become fabulously wealthy through
his life. He had done well in Russia, but he got his first major break at the
age of 29, when he got news of his brother’s death. His brother had started an
investment business that speculated in the California gold fields, and had just
gotten it running when he died. Heinrich left Russia for America, and took over
his brother’s business. Within a year, he had turned a major profit, and was
even made an American citizen when California was made the 31st U.S. State.
After a year, he would sell his business and return to Russia in 1852 now in
his thirties. He does not appear to have had business interests awaiting him in
Russia, but perhaps he simply felt more at home in Europe and Russia than in
the American Frontier.
In Russia, he married his first wife, with whom he
had three children. It would be an unhappy marriage, but the timing of his
return was perfect; he would make a lot of money in the next few years. He
first cornered the market of indigo dye, a very lucrative business, and then
became a military contractor for the Russian Government during the Crimean War
of 1854-56, where he held the market for saltpeter, sulfur, and lead, all
constituents of ammunition, which is naturally in big demand in wartime. By the
end of the war, Schliemann was 34, and rich enough to never work again. He kept
at it for another decade, but eventually he left his businesses to run
themselves. As we will see, he had other interests.
In 1866, at 44 years old, Schliemann went back to
school. Like many who are deprived of education as children, Schliemann
probably saw it as a privilege he needed to have. He enrolled at the
prestigious Sorbonne University in Paris, and took classes in Poetry, French,
and Greek and Arabic philosophy. But spending time in school was perhaps not
the end all and be all that Schliemann had hoped it would be. This is a
man who did not smoke or drink all his life. He swam in cold water everyday
because he believed it was good for his health. He wanted to do more and more
and more! As it was, his studying reinvigorated his childhood interest in the
Trojan myth, and eventually he became consumed by it.
All the ambition and drive that had led this man
across the world was now focused on discovering the legendary city of Troy. He
believed it was all true, and he had sworn to find the lost city. He set up a
base of operations for himself in Athens, which quickly became his favorite
city in the world. He took the classical lore of the place more seriously than
did the locals and would even implicate himself in politics to lobby for the
preservation of the purity of ancient sites. He would make himself enemies by
having medieval structures destroyed on the Acropolis because he believed that
only ancient Greek architecture should be allowed. He even decided that he
needed a new wife, and that she had to be Greek. He wanted a companion to share
in the thrill he felt at discovering the Greek past. So he asked a friend for
help introducing him to suitable women in Athens, and was eventually introduced
to a young girl named Sophia. She was 17, and he was 47. Despite the large age
gap between them, she happily agreed to marry him. He asked her at once why she
had agreed to marry him, since he was so old and all; to which she immediately
replied that it was because he was rich. Somehow, they were honestly happily
Schliemann’s belief was that the Iliad was a
historical document based upon truth, and not a fantasy. In this way, he was
going against all the credible historians of his time. His reasons for
believing this are unclear, but if anything about Schliemann should be obvious
by now, it is that he did not mind going against the grain, and was exceedingly
Eventually, he left for Troy, employing as his
guide the verses of Homer’s Iliad. He looked in the book for descriptions of
locations, and tried to find them in the world. He went to Turkey, since the
Iliad situates the Trojan city on the eastern side of the gates of the
Hellespont. There, the Aegean Sea situated between modern day Turkey and Greece
slims down to a narrow passage which winds north, into the Dardanelles.
Accordingly, at the mouth of the Dardanelles, Schliemann went looking for his
At first Schliemann was unsuccessful. The book
placed the city atop a hill, overlooking the Hellespont. After digging in
several locations, Schliemann was going nowhere. Even if the book could have
provided useful information once upon a time, the geography had changed
dramatically over the three thousand years that had past. The fact that
geography was dynamic was not necessarily well understood at that time, and he
had no luck. However, after beginning his search, a man named Frank Calvert
introduced himself to Schliemann. Calvert and his brother had been living in
the Ottoman Empire for a long time, where they worked as consuls for Britain.
Frank Calvert had already discovered the legendary city of Troy.
Calvert had determined that the city was located on
a hill named Hissarlik, and in 1863 he had excavated a temple on the site to
prove his point. Despite being wealthy enough to purchase the majority of the
land around Hissarlik, he did not have the leverage necessary to begin major
excavations. And to be clear, excavating old sites suspected of harboring
hidden ruins was not the norm at that time.
Schliemann would rectify this situation. He reached
a deal with the Ottoman Empire, by which it was determined that if any treasure
was found, it would be split between the Ottomans and himself. The generous
nature of such a deal on the part of the Ottomans just goes to show how little
they expected him to find. Schliemann accepted this heartily, but did so with
Discoveries were slow to come. He was not finding what he was looking for at Troy, no treasure at all. Even worst, he and Calvert could tell that the Homeric Troy which interested them was still deeper than the ruins they were excavating. Schliemann therefore opted for a new method. With a large force of laborers, Schliemann dug a large trench strait through the hill, removing all that he found until he thought he had reached the Homeric period of habitation.
This trench is an archaeologist’s worst nightmare.
He destroyed everything he passed over. Threw out god knows what pieces of
evidence might have instructed more educated archaeologists. I have to admit,
when I visited Troy, this trench stunned me.
When you first arrive at the site today, you walk
down into a corridor located between two huge, thick, intact walls that tower
over you. Later excavated by Wilhelm Dörpfel, these walls are more than three
thousand years old and blow you away. They protected the old palace, and as you
walk around the walls to the palace entrance, you pass from a breathtaking
sequence of ancient architecture to a broken, unrecognizable pile of debris. As
you walk into the sections that Schliemann excavated himself, you walk into a
sad place of broken history. I never had a bad feeling for my childhood hero
Schliemann before I stumbled upon that sight. Calvert and Schliemann fell out
over this trench when Calvert publicly criticized Schliemann for the first
time. As much as I admire Schliemann, I respect the story of Troy more, and I
wish another had financed it’s excavation.
What he was trying to get at however is a common problem in archaeology. As time goes by, layers of homogeneous sedimentation accumulate one atop another in a uniform manner. This is a geographical principle named stratigraphy; it states that as you dig down into the earth, you will come across distinct layers of soil, like many sheets of a bed layered on top of each other. If you find something in one layer, and another thing in a different layer, then you know that they are from two different time periods. Herein lies the problem: if you have 2000 years of occupation in one place, the oldest stuff is beneath the newest stuff. Therefore, if you want to get at the oldest stuff, you will have 1999 years of history in your way.
late 19th century, the field of geology was only beginning to be codified, but
Schliemann and Calvert understood that their first findings near the surface
corresponded to later periods of Hellenistic and Roman occupation. They could
easily tell from the architecture, building methods and style that they found.
They understood that if this site was indeed Troy, they had to go bellow these
later constructions. Today, this would have been achieved slowly, methodically,
and every stone and artifact found would be documented and it’s location of
discovery would be shown on a precise grid map of the excavation site, and
sonar and radar and ultrasound technology would have probed the ground
searching for appropriate dig locations, and would have informed of probable
building locations, and the meticulous process would have permitted the
discovering, and maybe even understanding of an ancient past! Of course, by
stating that today technology makes archaeology far superior, is not meant to
discredit early efforts at archaeology. It is rather that Schliemann’s work is
more comparable to fishing with dynamite, and he is hated for this in
I have to admit, as a child, and even all the way
up to my visiting Troy in August 2019, I didn’t much care. I had heard others
say these things about him, but I thought Schliemann had to be forgiven for
these trespasses for a number of reasons that still hold significant weight.
First, archaeology was not some well understood science as it is today. There
was no standard method of excavation. Even Arthur Evans, an archeologist who
was contemporary to Schliemann destroyed any future possibility for excavation
in his Cretan sites by reconstructing ancient buildings in their original location!
He had no idea how they should look! He only knew the layout of their
foundation! This is also a nightmare! Schliemann, Evans, they were all just
learning. Then there was the notion that Schliemann was bleeding money here,
and couldn’t possibly know if he was in fact spending his money wisely. Could
he truly KNOW that he was at Troy? At the end of the day, Schliemann was among
the first private sponsors of Archaeology, so we should give the guy a break! I
thought Schliemann’s impatience could be justified, and moreover, the work
conditions were bad for everyone. Malaria was a serious problem, as was the
heat, cold and nature of the work. It was clearly not an ideal working
environment, and anyone would have wanted to get the job done as soon as
This brings us to the question; what did Schliemann
really want to get out of finding Troy? What was his reason for spending so
much time and money on this? On the one hand, there is the simple story of
fascination we began with, but this seems hard to digest at this point. What I
think, is that Schliemann wanted to be famous. Not famous like normal
celebrities today; he wanted to be remembered by history. This naturally
strikes us as megalomaniacal, but it make’s me think of a story from the Iliad,
in which the great hero Achilles is told a prophecy. He is told that if he is
to go to Troy, he will die, but be remembered for all eternity as a great hero.
Alternatively, if he is to stay away from Troy, he would lead a long and happy
life of anonymity. Achilles chose an early death and eternal fame. Since
reading that story, that part has intrigued me about what this meant about the
average person, but Schliemann appears to have shared Achilles’ desires. We are
after all talking about him now.
After all this however, we are still left with Schliemann’s destruction. Ever since Schliemann plowed through Hissarlik, archaeologists have struggled and strained to put things right at Troy. Meticulous reconstruction of sections hurriedly destroyed by Schliemann has been undertaken ever since. For one reason or another, it has been mainly Germans that led excavations at Troy, and when I visited, I was there with a friend from Germany. He communicated to me that these German archaeologists must have lived with so much shame at the handiwork of one of their countrymen upon one of the world’s most famous archaeological sites.
Somehow, still to this day Calvert’s name barely
comes up, but it is he who pointed Schliemann to the correct location, and who
assisted the amateurish Schliemann at the beginning of his archaeological
Clearly, Schliemann had a dark side. The sort of ambition that fueled Schliemann’s rise is very often found harboring a flexible morality. For starters, Schliemann would have made a fine politician considering his relationship with truth. Throughout his life, Schliemann was called a liar, fabricator, con artist, and a great many things he said were later refuted. He has one of the most confusing Wikipedia pages you might find, and all the contradictory facts are supported by citations. I have three books about him that contradict one another on a variety of facts. He wrote a piece in 1851 pretending to be an eyewitness to the San Francisco Fire when in fact he was nearly a hundred miles away in Sacramento. He didn’t even get the date of the fire right. He might have lied about when and how he got his American Citizenship. He definitely lied to the city of Indianapolis in 1868 when he moved there to take advantage of their liberal divorce laws. He claimed he would settle in Indianapolis and bring all of his assets if he could get a divorce, then left for Athens, never to return, the moment the divorce was finalized.
His career as a liar was only getting warmed up at
this point. Though grateful to Calvert, Schliemann never shared an ounce of
success with him. Calvert had submitted a paper in 1865, before Schliemann was even
on the scene, making a case for his discovery of Troy, but he was apparently
not nearly as loud as Schliemann was, when he claimed all the credit for the
discovery in 1868. On first inspection, Schliemann seems a brilliant mind
capable of making money and connections in uncertain times, and probe a little
deeper and his abundant repertoire of lies inevitably makes him look slimy.
His character is best demonstrated by the following events. On a certain day, all the efforts and money that Schliemann had invested in Troy payed off. Having dug the previously mentioned trench, Schliemann thought that they were at the level corresponding to Homeric Troy, and there they literally struck gold. Schliemann sent the workers home and excavated the remainder of the section himself. He gathered all the gold, and hid it in the bottom of food baskets. After a few months, he took a boat back to Athens, and smuggled all the treasure to Greece with him.
This was a crime, Schliemann was now by definition a treasure hunter and a thief. He could no longer call himself an archaeologist. Any authentic desire he might have had to be a respected student and authority on history was dashed in this moment. He showed in this action that he was in it for the publicity, and now he had his ticket to fame. He publicized his discoveries every which way he knew; he called it Priam’s Treasure, after the Trojan King in the Iliad; he even had his wife wear the treasure at public high society events. He kept the treasure for a time, and took the following photo of his wife Sophia adorned in gold jewelry thousands of years old.
Clearly, the main ethical problem with treasure hunters is that they are more concerned with extracting specific objects of value than with the development of the historical record. Normally their goal is to bring artifacts to sale on the market (or black market). Archaeologists work like crime scene investigators, and consider every aspect of the areas that they excavate. They want to understand the nature of the items they find, of the location and orientation of these items. Like anyone taking something from a crime scene before an investigator shows up, treasure hunters can really ruin an archaeologist’s ability to learn from a site. Beyond that, if ancient items are important because of the way they tie us to our past, it seems right that they should primarily belong in publicly owned collections located in the region of discovery, and not be hidden away in foreign and private collections. Moreover, Calvert and others at the time criticized Schliemann’s actions on the basis that in the future, foreign authorities would never trust the word of an archaeologist again. In this way, he rightly argued that Schliemann’s publicized treasure hunting was creating obstacles to attaining knowledge about the past.
His theft led to the Turkish government revoking
his digging permits, and forbidding him from returning to Turkey, though these
decisions would be overturned in the future. He defended his theft to the
general public by stating that he was protecting the treasure from corrupt
Ottoman officials. This might not be as silly as it seems on the surface, but
would certainly have be well received by the general European public of the
time. He would eventually take his cue from Indiana Jones by donating the
treasure to a museum. Unfortunately for Greece or Turkey, Schliemann appears to
have made a deal with the German University of Pergamon in Berlin, whereby he
gave them the treasure in exchange for a Ph.D.
Schliemann had wanted to be recognized as the best
authority on Troy, and ultimately wanted to be admired by those professors of
history that he looked up to. He wanted to be the living breathing image that
people conjured up when they thought of Troy. The universities however,
couldn’t stand him, and were his harshest critics. They hated that this
outsider, who had barely spent any time at all in an institute of higher
learning was telling them that he had made this great discovery about the past.
Newspapers published whirlwinds of letters from Schliemann defending his
discoveries, and professors debunking successfully and unsuccessful his
so-called theories. It never really ended, but esoteric debates about history
have largely faded from mainstream news.
The treasure remained in the Pergamon museum until it went missing in World War II. No one seemed to know of it’s whereabouts until 1993, when the treasure turned up at the Pushkin Museum in Moscow. Germany, Greece, and Turkey now claim the treasure, but Russia is unlikely to give it up anytime soon; in 1998 they legalized the possession of war plunder taken from German cities in World War II. That same law prevents Russian authorities to enact restitutions.
The Birth of Archaeology
In any event, Schliemann had not found Priam’s treasure. It could not be since he found it too deep. Recalling our discussion of stratigraphy, Schliemann had dug to one of the deepest layers to find the treasure. But this layer was not the Homeric Troy. Today we understand that the site of Troy has been occupied by a number urban iterations. It was first occupied by humans around 5000 years ago. The lowest layer of excavation, Troy I, as it is now known, is made up of a small citadel that was used from 3000-2600B.C. Troy II, the next urban iteration was built on top of Troy I, and features a larger elevated citadel, surrounded by a sprawling lower town beneath. This second city is considered to have existed between 2600–2250 BC, some 4600-4250 years ago. Priam’s Treasure was found in this layer, and years after it’s discovery, Schliemann’s assistant, a man named Wilhelm Dörpfeld, declared that Schliemann had been wrong. This created a fuss, but Schliemann eventually admitted that Dörpfeld was right.
Dörpfeld would become an important component in this story. He was an architect by training, but immediately after graduating went working in Athens, participating in ancient excavations. His talent was recognized, and he would eventually be put in charge of those excavations. Archaeology, however, was never a lucrative job, and Dörpfeld was a poor man who had borrowed money to become educated. He went back to Germany, got married, and was looking for a job as an architect when he fortuitously met Schliemann. Schliemann caught him at just the right time, and probably persuaded Dörpfeld to follow his dreams with ease. Dörpfeld would be an asset. He was meticulous, worried and patient, and less interested in fame than Schliemann.
Schliemann would give Dörpfeld control over Troy,
and trust him to continue excavations. He would develop the theory of
stratigraphy we elaborated earlier at Troy, and described all past and future
excavations he undertook at Troy according to it. After Schliemann’s sudden
death in 1890, Sophia Schliemann would pay for Dörpfeld to continue the
excavations, believing it was what her husband would have wanted, and perhaps
she also cared herself. Dörpfeld described 9 layers, and though some of the
details he elaborated would be found imprecise, his general theory was
validated by the credentialed archaeologist Carl Blegen in the 1930s as well as
by all others that have excavated Troy since then. Schliemann has been called
the father of Archaeology, but I now disagree. If anyone deserves that title,
it is the assistant Dörpfeld. Thanks to him, scientific sense was made of
Schliemann’s excavations, and many sites were saved from his destructive
methods. A strict method of digging and of note taking was established under
Dörpfeld’s leadership, whereby sites were to be understood, not plundered until
they yielded grand artifacts. In fact, though this title is not given to him on
his English Wikipedia page, it is given in his German Wikipedia page as of
It is worth describing the 9 strata of Troy, to
demonstrate the power of Archaeology. Troy I and II have already been described
briefly, but it is important to note that it is visible that Troy I was
destroyed in a fire, and that Troy II was built by the same people on the ruins
of the previous iteration. This statement can be validated by reference to
architecture, building methods, types of pottery found, and it can be
extrapolated to indicate that the fire that destroyed Troy I was accidental.
Troy II on the other hand was probably destroyed by war. Marks of fire are also
visible at the end of this strata, as well as evidence of conflict, such as
arrow heads in walls and etc. Troy III, IV and V (2300B.C. – 1700B.C.) each got
larger than the previous iteration, with the citadel remaining mostly the same
size. The walls got higher and the outer city walls spread further and further.
Troy VI is contained within a strata that places it
between 1700-1250 B.C. This city was the largest iteration and most grandiose
yet. The city was clearly rich, and artifacts collected in this layer have
their provenance as far as from the island of Crete. This city would be
destroyed by an earthquake in 1250 B.C. and would be rebuilt immediately after
by the same population. Throughout these iterations, the people that did the
building often reused materials from older sites while building new ones. In
this way, certain layers are depleted of evidence, and can reveal very little.
As seen in the image below, Troy II is shown in Yellow. Despite being a very
old layer, it is mostly intact since the citadel walls created in this period
would not move or be destroyed for the following millennia. As such, this layer
was always added to, not recycled, as is the case for layers III, IV and V. In
those layers, new building methods and styles were elaborated, by which old
buildings were torn down and rebuilt using most of the old materials. As such,
little remains of these iterations.
Troy VIIa is where it gets interesting. It is contained between 1250-1180B.C. It was destroyed by fire, it was organized to hold more supplies than any other Troy, and arrowheads were found planted in the city walls. It is also the only strata in which human remains were found. Moreover, these remains were fire-damaged, and not intentionally buried, but were found in what looked like random places. This was Homer’s Troy, the city that was besieged by the Greeks for 10 years, if the story is exact. The vast storage space in the city was meant as an insurance during threat, when it was not possible to cultivate or forage. Troy VIIb is contained between 1180-1000B.C., and it was occupied by the survivors of the siege. They lived in haunted ruins, surrounded by ghosts of a glorious past. Troy VIII and IX were later Hellenistic and Roman settlements, respectively, and these layers are contained between 1000 B.C. and 600 A.D. In fact, before the Roman Emperor Constantine declared that Constantinople, modern day Istanbul, was to be the new capital of the Roman Empire, he had first considered the city of Troy.
As Nick McCarthy wrote, archaeology requires money, patience, and the willingness to seek out a variety of views to explain findings. Schliemann only had one of these three virtues. But I would argue that Schliemann had fourth virtue which makes him an important cog in the creation of archaeology; Schliemann reminded the world that the stories of our past are more often than not based in some kind of truth. From biblical stories involving massive floods, to ancient Greek epics about divinely ordained war, to who knows what else; these stories have been imperfectly passed down from true event, to word of mouth, to pen and paper.
As we have previously mentioned, Calvert had
publicized his discovery of Troy years before Schliemann was ever invested in
its search. The fact that no one listened, and that it didn’t become big news
says a lot about Schliemann. It is rare that people today become uproarious and
excited about the ancient world, but with Schliemann around they did. The
newspapers really were all covering his story. Everyone knew of him, of his
discovery at Troy, and of the fierce debate that raged between him and
academics. He was certainly a genius of communication, marketing and publicity.
It seems obvious that the discipline of archaeology could not have found a
serious place in academia without Schliemann rubbing their nose in his “amateur”
discoveries. Moreover, Schliemann’s publicity would inspire countless youths to
enter the field of history. He made it exciting. I personally know
archaeologists who found their passions reading about Schliemann.
I myself almost became one because of him. It would take me time, but I would later realized that what I was actually in love with that the cliché of the archaeologist explorer, not so much the actual doing of science. I guess I had to grow up; but after all of this, that’s the reason I still like Schliemann. He doesn’t seem to have ever grown up or listened when people told him he couldn’t do something. Seems like he did everything he wanted. I began this text believing I was about to write about the story of the discovery of Troy, but by now I realize that what I’ve laid out is my internal debate about one of my childhood heroes, Heinrich Schliemann. So be it, I hope that it may be interest to others to know how Schliemann has captivated me.
At Troy, Homer created the character of the noble
ancient hero. In the same place, Schliemann created one of it’s modern day
counterparts in the archaeologist explorer. It seems that as humans, we always
need some kind of hero in our narratives. Let this be the moral of this story;
give people facts and events, and they probably wont care; but fit your actions
in a narrative with heroes and villains, and they will listen. In those two
lines is written the story of every successful and unsuccessful political
campaign, war and civilization. We are all tied together by the narratives we
write about ourselves, and the victor is he who’s narrative is taken by others
as their own. Schliemann was a master of story telling, and he used this skill
to gain fortune and fame. Let us not forget that he had Homer as his favorite
The collapse of civilization has occurred regularly
in history; the Bronze Age that these Greeks and Trojans fought in would
collapse soon after the story’s events, and it was so bad that the Greeks
forgot how to write. Yet we still have this story, which we now know is based
in truth. I believe that by promoting
his controversial discovery at Troy, in the face of an establishment that
ridiculed his efforts, we were taught to marvel when looking back, for our
ancestors have been through hell and back to create the world we have now. Our
ancestors have endured war, famines, crises, all to be forgotten, and for
however brief a time, Schliemann brought one of their stories to the fore of
our existence. He remains inexorably
attached to Troy, and will go down in history as a piece of the story of the Trojan
War, to be judged a hero or a crook by generations to come.
McCarty, Nick. Troy, The Myth and Reality behind the Epic Legend. Carlton Publishing Group and Barns & Nobles Inc. New York. 2004
One of the greatest testaments to human brilliance is located in the city of Istanbul, Turkey. Completed in 537 A.D., the Hagia Sophia was built to be the greatest church on earth by one of the Roman Empire’s most ambitious and controversial Emperors. In a recent post, I told the story of the city of Istanbul. As I had traveled there very recently after nearly two decades of waiting, I was excited to share my wonder for the place. However, throughout that post I omitted any discussion of the Hagia Sophia, which is the building that convinced me to visit the city when I was just 10 years old. I admire that building and those who built it, and the story leading up to it’s construction captivated me. It still does! I thought that it deserved it’s own uninterrupted story; but to tell it, I’ll need to tell you about the extremely violent sport of chariot racing, about a blood thirsty tyrannical Emperor, about massive riots and massacres, about engineering and scientific achievements, and about wars of conquest. This building has been through a lot.
Our story begins in 532 A.D. on a particular day at the Hippodrome of Constantinople, where some chariot races were taking place. Throughout the Roman Empire, public sports were perhaps even more popular than they are today. That is a bold statement, considering how seriously they are taken today, and by how many. But to make a point, back then, the world’s population was a lot smaller, but their stadiums were often just as big as they are today! We all know of Rome’s Colosseum and of gladiatorial games, but at this point in time, the most important sport in the empire was that of chariot racing. These races were held in hippodromes, where two long parallel tracks were tied together by semi circles at either end. In the hippodrome of Constantinople (now Istanbul), up to 100,000 people might be in attendance at once. But to give some perspective on how big these games could get; in the Circus Maximus of Rome, arguably the largest hippodrome ever built, around 250,000 people might have been able to attend; a quarter of Rome’s population at that time. Consider your local stadium, does it compare to what Rome could offer it’s people 2000 years ago?
As with most things that existed in antiquity, chariot racing is very little understood. So much is unknown to us about how it was organized, how the races went, and most of what we do know comes from poems and from mosaics and paintings. In the poems, we get wonderful imagery, describing the feeling of being at one of these games, but nothing is said about how the games were played. This is a common problem in history, because just like us today, people in the past took their world for granted. No one felt the need to describe something in detail that literally everyone understood very well. Ask yourself this: if you knew nothing about the sports common in the country you live in, but you could read the text messages exchanged between two of your friends about a match that they witnessed; could you guess at the rules of that sport? Chances are you wouldn’t even know that hockey was played on ice if you only had the correspondence between two fans to look at. That’s why history is such a puzzle sometimes. But back to the point; Chariot Races.
Our ancient poets nevertheless give us a wealth of information. Races normally figured teams of two or four horses, and depending on the arena, there could be up to twelve chariots racing at once. They tell us that the games were brutal, and that there were few rules; in other words, racing was violent. Some of the standard strategies in these races included striking horses and other drivers with whips and fists, slamming chariots into others, cutting off opponents and driving opponents into walls. Charioteers almost always started off as slaves, usually made to start racing around the age of 9 years old, and if they were successful, they could be freed and become fabulously wealthy. Moreover, these were some of most famous men alive in their world. Much like today, where everyone has heard of Michael Jordan and Muhammad Ali, these charioteers could be better known than those ruling the nation. The same can be said of the horses. Though race days were horrific and brutal for these animals, their time in stables were made up of unbridled luxury. Horses were loved by crowds as much as were the drivers, and horses that won 100 races were publicly honored. But to be clear, crashes were part of the fun for the audiences. This was a blood sport as much as a competition, and pile ups involving many numbers of chariots were lovingly refereed to as Shipwrecks. We’re strange, aren’t we?
In this city, there were four main chariot teams: the Blues, the Reds, the Greens, and the Whites. Audience members supported their favorite team by wearing jerseys of corresponding color, much like today. But these teams and their fans weren’t like any sports associations you might see nowadays; these teams were the equivalent of political factions that brought together masses of civilians with street thugs and politicians. They had power. Normally they fought one another, but alliances and coalitions were common.
At this moment, Constantinople was in an uproar, and everyone was furious with Emperor Justinian I. This emperor had been born a peasant, and had risen up to the greatest position of power existing in Europe at that time; needless to say, he was an astonishingly energetic man, and once he bore the mantle of empire, he set himself on making changes. He had a war to end with the Persian Sassanids, so he raised taxes. Next he went after all that he considered immoral; also known as fun stuff. He tried to eliminate all old pagan religious ceremonies, the study of ancient philosophers, adultery, prostitution, Christians that had different opinions, homosexuality, and the Jews. People didn’t like that, and all these people suddenly felt a little enemy of my enemy is my friend. These chariot races became the focal points from which their discontent was manifested. The greatest place that the citizens of Constantinople had to gather together was the Hippodrome, and the Emperor often attended from his palace balcony, which was integrated in the design of the hippodrome.
One day, the normally opposed teams and fans came together and begun to chant a slogan towards the palace to voice their resentment. Nika; win, they chanted! These crowds were legendarily chaotic, but on this day, they rampaged into the streets, set fire to buildings, and besieged the Emperor in his palace for five days. Moreover, the politicians and aristocrats in the city saw this as a perfect opportunity to try to overthrow their Emperor. This was a perfect storm, and it is likely that the politicians had conspired through their team affiliations to make it happen this way. The ambitious emperor was stunned. We are told that he thought about running away; but no peasant that ever made himself emperor should be underestimated. He also had a pretty ruthless wife.
On the fifth day, Justinian sent soldiers to the Hippodrome, where the teams and rioters had been assembled in a pretense, that the emperor was willing to compromise and would meet them. There, under the leadership of the general Belisarius, loyal to his emperor, soldiers barricaded the stadium, entered in formation, and went to work killing every last man. It is said that 30,000 were killed in that place. By hand.
The Nika Riots, as they would come to be known, were over. In less than a week, half the city had burned to ashes, most of the population had been displaced, and tens of thousands had died. This was the greatest riot that this city ever faced in its history. However, now that Justinian’s power was uncontested, he was intent to show his people that he was worth the blood he had taken from them. He first sent armies west under the leadership of Belisarius. Though his promotion to commander of the western push was a reward for loyalty shown at Nika, it would eventually turn into a curse, for he had the monumental responsibility to reconstitute the old Roman Empire, which had fallen on dark times by now. Most of the Western Empire was now under the control of various conquering hoards. But the astonishing campaigns and bittersweet achievements of Belisarius are a subject for another post.
In addition to setting out to fight wars of reconquest, Justinian began a series of monumental building projects to cement his authority. Nothing say’s I’m in charge like I paid for that. One of these would be the crowning jewel of Justinian’s legacy. The city’s Cathedral had been burned down during the riots, and Justinian would build the city a new basilica on the site of the old one. A devout Christian, Justinian decided that his engineers would build the greatest Church in the world. Perhaps he felt as though he had some things to atone for. The fact is that Justinian was not so different from other Roman Emperors, or to other leaders all around the world at that time; dissent was crushed however it needed to be. Today we do that too, just more cleanly; we just throw tear gas at it and hope it goes away. Regardless, today we don’t remember Justinian for his ruthlessness, but for his building programs, which are still visible in their glory.
He tasked two professors of mathematics and physics with no experience in construction, Isidorus and Anthemius, with building the church. He only had two demands; that they build it very quickly, and that the building should be completely different from anything preceding it. Under pressure from a murderous emperor, the two set to work. After just six weeks, the two had a design and had begun constructing the largest building in the world. Forget how long it takes to begin construction anywhere in our day in age for a small building, Justinian was throwing all that was needed at this project, from slaves to materials. Interestingly, upon my own visit to the Hagia Sophia, I asked my guide why there were so many different types of columns in the church, and he answered that the builders had recycled many columns from older sites within the empire to cut down on the time to manufacture new ones, and since this church was so big, no single other location had sufficient matching columns to fulfill its building needs.
The dome was another special feature in this building. It would be 100 feet across, about 33 meters, and the largest masonry dome in the world; and therefore extremely heavy, which is a major concern in building. The engineers would need to become very crafty in constructing this structure, because should the weight of the dome be badly distributed, the dome, or the building supporting the dome, would collapse.
You have to imagine that the weight of the dome created a force that pushed directly down on its supports. That’s difficult enough to engineer at a height over 50 meters, but the nature of a dome’s shape creates horizontal outward forces upon the supports as well. Lateral shearing forces. Now the supports have to withstand the downward force but also the secondary sideways force, all created by the weight of the dome. Supporting the sideways force is commonly referred to as buttressing. To do this they relied upon architectural structures called pendentives, which help distribute the weight of the heavy dome downwards. These pendentives can be described as four roman arches set up in a square, as shown in the pictures below. Rounded arches were a very standard architectural solution to the distribution of building weight, and allowed for very tall stone and brick building projects in the ancient world. The pendentive brought this solution one step further.
Pendentives were commonly used during the roman era to support the weight of smaller domes, but these mathematician architects brought the technology to a new level; they decided that if one set of pendentives was good, then more had to be better. They began to combine pendentive structures, layering them away from each other, almost creating a giant brick hill. The end result was a central pendentive supporting the world’s biggest masonry dome, followed by rows and rows of smaller pendentives extending away. The picture bellow shows a midsection cut view of the Hagia Sophia, and shows well how all the layered pendentive structures support the centre of the church.
As you can tell from this picture, the engineering elements which meant to prop up the ancient dome came to determine its unusual and exotic architecture. Nothing like this existed before it, and after it, the style became an architectural standard for much of the East Mediterranean Religions. Just look around Istanbul today for evidence of that.
The construction of the church began in 532 A.D. It was completed in 537. This stunning construction time amazed all those that witnessed this site, but it probably also explains the fact that the dome collapsed in an earthquake in 558. The building had been built too quickly, and had some flaws. The dome had been too flat, which drove the weight disproportionately sideways, putting the buttressing ability of the pandentives beyond their limits. The new dome would be taller, and thus would drive its own weight as directly into the ground as possible. Since then the problem has been largely solved; however, another earthquake shifted the dome’s current alignment in the last few centuries. Guides in the Hagia Sofia like to bring tourists to the center point directly beneath the dome (it is indicated with a small X that was carved into the floor by Ottoman architects some 500 years ago, before this last earthquake) in order to point out that the displacement is visible. Indeed, a chandelier hangs directly from the centre of the dome and comes down from the ceiling to within 3 meters of the floor. It rests at least 50 cm away from the center mark in the floor.
But since 558, the same dome stands. In 565, Justinian would die and be remembered as Justinian the Great, and despite his amazing, bloody, and revolutionary life, this building is still the biggest reason that he is remembered today. Perhaps this is a lesson to any who would like to leave a mark on the world. No one remembers the name of those two architects nor those of any of the workers. I had to dig to find those. We only remember the name of the one who paid for it.
When the Hagia Sophia was built, it was the biggest building in the world, and it would remain the largest church in the world for nearly one thousand years. However, surprisingly it was not displaced as largest by the construction of a bigger church elsewhere. Those who read my previous article about Istanbul will know that in 1453, about 900 years after Justinian’s death, the city of Constantinople was conquered and occupied by a new empire; the Ottomans. Under the leadership of Mehmet II, troops had besieged the city for months before finally breaking into it by force of cannon.
The Ottomans brought with them another religion that they would vigorously encourage in their empire; and yet the Hagia Sophia amazed the conquerors. Mehmet never even thought of tearing down this church. That was not standard practice at that time in history. The Ottomans were rather pragmatic, and converted the world’s biggest church into… just another mosque. Mosques were already really big. But I think many mosques dedicate quite a bit of room to open air sections that count towards this size calculation, whereas most churches don’t have significant open air spaces considered part of the church. Regardless, after World War One, the nation of Turkey was born, and its leader, Ataturk, converted the Hagia Sophia into a museum, as it still is today. However, upon opening the Hagia Sophia to the world as a museum, Ataturk also had the plaster covering the Christian symbolism removed. Naturally, the conquerors had covered up the Christian symbolism in the Hagia Sophia when they converted the church into a mosque. It is quite a blessing that they did not destroy it instead, because the Roman mosaics and paintings are beautiful. Today, the Hagia stands as one of the only buildings in the world to incorporate both Christian and Islamic symbolism in a harmonious manner, with the giant name of Muhammad and Allah framing a picture of Jesus and Mary on a throne.
Now I love this building. So much has happened around it, and if you could be a fly on the wall in a building like that through history you would gain such a significant sight into the past. My point is that, the building was so astonishing that it became a focal point for so many famous individuals, emperors, charioteers, generals, scholars, architects, slaves, peasants, worshippers, tourists, and people from all over the world at all times in history since it was built. The Romans who built this structure had an empire ranging from Egypt to the Balkans; you can be certain that individuals from all those places visited and spent time in this building. And then imagine all the visitors from the bordering regions.
One of my favorite stories about the Hagia Sophia involves graffiti. There are two places where there is runic graffiti in the Hagia Sophia. Runic was the writing style of people we think of as Vikings; what was it doing there?! This might be explained by the fact that the emperors of Constantinople were all protected by a legendary bodyguard made up of Norsemen, named the Varagian Guard. As part of a diplomatic agreement with the Norsemen that ruled the territories of modern-day Russia, the Emperor was protected by some Norse fighters sent from the north, who would come to be known as some of the best soldiers in the Mediterranean. Though hardy fighters, they lived up to their stereotypes; one story about them tells of a Norse leader visiting Constantinople; upon spending time with the guards, he gave them a speech in which he reprimanded them for drinking too heavily and being so rowdy. He told them that they should moderate their drinking to present a better image of the Norsemen. He said that to the personal body guards of the most powerful man in Europe.
Well, these men had to accompany the Emperor everywhere, even to church, and probably from one of these guards, bored on duty, maybe even hung over, we have the runic graffiti which reads : “Halfdan was here”. Carved into the Hagia Sophia.
Halfdan could have written that anywhere, but then none of us would have known about Halfdan. The Hagia Sophia, and the city of Istanbul, are great testaments to the collective achievements of humanity thus far; but they are also portals through which we can know our ancestors. I don’t want us to stop improving because we’ve done enough; but take a look a monument some day. A striking building, or perhaps even an ordinary one; pause and try to see time pass through it. Try to imagine all that might have happened there because someone decided to build something.
Some individuals tower over the rest of us by nature of their ability to influence the world. While most of us merely suffer the ebb and flow of history, others appear to possess the unnatural mythical ability to command the sea. One of these individuals was Mohandas K. Gandhi.
Unlike most others who fall into this category of world mover, Gandhi was not a conqueror. He was not a politician, he was not a general, he was not a scientist, and he never sought fame for its own sake. Despite that, he managed to push the world towards his ideals through simply engaging in activities he considered right and true. He became a body of wisdom that carried such weight, humanity could not help but to gravitate around him.
Herein is a review of Gandhi’s Autobiography: The Story of My Experiments with Truth. Despite the label of Autobiography, the book is not a full account of Gandhi’s life. The book was originally published in the form of weekly publications from 1925-1929 following his release from prison. It describes his early childhood in India, his years studying abroad in London, his most troubling encounters with racism as a barrister in South Africa, and it concludes with his first steps back in India in 1921 until his arrest and imprisonment.
Originally written in Gujarati, the book does not describe an exciting adventure filled with danger and romance, and frankly it can be dull in some isolated passages. But these stories are deeply insightful, and sometimes can truly be filled with absolute danger and violence, where whole communities square off against profoundly troubling injustice! Other passages however describe his dietary contemplations in details sometimes exasperating to the author of this review. Gandhi’s purpose in writing this chronicle was to explain to his Indian readers how he came by the ideas that formed his mind and character. In a world as divided as was India by colonial oppression, caste exclusivity, and religious intolerance, he thought it necessary to explain his beliefs on inclusivity, respect, and on the importance of thoroughly examining one’s own beliefs for lies and half-truths.
Gandhi would go on to become the leader of the Indian Independence Movement against British rule of India. Though he would be tragically assassinated following the success of this just cause, his role in shaping the modern world and the current lives of more than a billion Indians and Pakistanis is undeniable. Still today, seven decades since his death, his name carries more weight than that of any current politician, dictator, or celebrity.
It is good that we should know how the best of us came by their ideas. In reading Gandhi, we cannot help but find ourselves wanting in comparison to him. He inevitably provides us with a standard of goodness to which we cannot help but aspire. This being said, he was not perfect, his ideas sometimes seem outdated, but nonetheless, we are fortunate to have his words.
It is relevant to note that Gandhi begins the book by stating that he had to be convinced to write the autobiography since he deemed it a silly idea. Gandhi did not understand why he should put down his ideas on paper for posterity since he was certain that some of them would change in the future as he further examined their validity. In the increasingly ideological world we live in today, a few lessons from Gandhi should be deemed essential to any who claim to think.
Some stories have been told to us so many times that they possess an intrinsic hold upon us. These stories are woven into the fabric of our culture; the characters exist in our minds as though they were acquaintances; and the morals and lessons of the tales inform and dictate our very nature.
One of these deeply rooted stories is that of King Arthur and of his round table. This story has held a place in our culture and collective imagination since its first telling in the 9th century. Over the years it has taken many shapes and colours; Arthur has been seen as a folkloric superman who fought off hundreds of foes singlehandedly; Disney cast Arthur as a young and timid boy; Hollywood has seen him as both a Roman Officer and as a back-alley tramp in two different recent adaptations.
Yet none of these versions manage to deliver a telling of his tale that live up to the importance of the icon. All fail with the exception of Bernard Cornwell’s The Warlord Chronicles. The first installment in this trilogy is entitled The Winter King. This chronicle tells the tale of a brutal, cold, and miserable Britain, torn apart in the centuries following Rome’s abandonment of the Isles. Petty struggles for domination between neighbours have kept the Britons from coalescing and convalescing, and the lives of the people are “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short”, as Hobbes might have put it.
The book begins as the light of the Britons, Uther, dies. Uther was a King who managed to bring order in his lifetime, and with his death, disorder and chaos between the Britons emerges anew. This time however, to add fuel to the fire, the Britons face an existential crisis. Saxon hoards from across the English Chanel have begun their invasion of Britain, and the Britons must set aside their differences and come together to fight off their foes.
The story is told from the eyes of Derfel Cadarn, who is an orphan in the care of the Sorcerer Merlin at the start of the novel. As he comes to manhood in the unequaled battle sequences of Cornwell, he tells a story full of all one might hope from such a tale as Arthur’s. It is a story filled with wonder, bravery, cowardice, betrayal, love, violence, tenderness, but most of all; it is a story filled with hope.
Few authors take the care that Cornwell does when presenting a story cast in a historical era. His Warlord Chronicle tells a story that is impossible to set aside or put down. Nothing but the next page can satisfy the curiosity and thrill he instills with each and every word. While you are cold and gloomy this winter, consider picking up Bernard Cornwell’s The Winter King. It will bring a purpose to your day, and if nothing else, it can make you thankful that you are not born in the Dark Ages. But if you had, you would want to be at Arthur’s side.
I finally made it to the legendary city of Istanbul. I have been waiting since I was 10 years old to see this city, and in August, just a few weeks ago, I was there for over two weeks.
The land upon which Istanbul is built has been occupied by humans for at least 5000 years, but the site does not appear to have experienced any significant development until the Greeks founded a colony here in 657 B.C. The Greeks named the site Byzantium, after the king Byzas, who founded the colony. This is considered to be the city’s first name, and it bore it for nearly a millennia. Though the Romans would eventually give the city a new name, the city would remain primarily Greek speaking for the next two thousand years.
Over time, this insignificant town called Byzantium would catch the eye of a Roman Emperor. The Romans had been increasingly struggling to manage their enormous empire from distant Rome; worst of all, most of the Empire’s wealth lay in the Eastern provinces. For these reasons, the Emperor Constantine wanted a more central location than Rome from which to engage in Empire. Constantine eventually decided that the site of Byzantium would become the next Roman capital in 330 A.D. The central location that the city occupied, literally forming the border between the European and Asian half of the Roman Empire, made it the perfect location from which to administer the empire. He would spend lavishly on building up the city as a rival to Rome, and as is the prerogative of emperors, Constantine renamed Byzantium after himself. It would be known as Constantinople, or Constantinopolis, for the next thousand years.
As the Western half of the Roman Empire fell to repeated raids and corruption over the next two hundred years, the Eastern half of the Empire remained strong, administered behind the fortress that was Constantinople. The Roman Empire would survive in the east until the 15th century. History remembers this entity as the Byzantine Empire, but they thought of themselves as Romans, pure and simple.
The city spent centuries fending off foreign attacks, by northern barbarians, horse nomads from the Far East, and would even be the victims of crusader treachery. The Byzantines have a fantastic and exciting history: the Emperor had legendary viking body guards named the Varangian Guard; the Empire is largely responsible for the development of Russia; the Byzantine navy and army had flamethrowers that threw a still unknown substance that could not be extinguished by water; and they were fabulously wealthy and literate.
Over time, through corruption and subpar leadership, the Byzantine Empire was whittled down until nothing was left except the city of Constantinople itself. The word “Byzantine” is today understood to mean excessively complicated. In many ways, this statement can shed light on why it might have become impossible to maintain such an empire.
However the empire atrophied, in 1453, the Ottoman conqueror, Mehmed II, at 21 years of age, led an army in the siege and capture of the city, using some of the first cannons seen in Europe to batter down Europe’s greatest fortifications. Three sets of massive walls lined one behind another separated by deep moats; an entirely fortified seaside; as well as a chain dragged across the sea at the mouth of Golden Horn to hold back naval invasion into the city ports. These fortifications had held off one thousand years of would be conquerors, but they could not withstand the coming of the age of gunpowder. From this point on, the city would be renamed Istanbul, and would become the Capital of its third empire, the Ottoman Empire.
Interestingly, the name Istanbul might have Greek origins. Though meaning something along the lines of Plenty of Islam, or Find Islam, in Turkish, the local Greeks might have refereed to the city by something sounding quite close to Istanbul, meaning in their language To the City. They would use this name the same way we often refer to our closest city when we live in a suburbs or nearby village. Historians suggest that Mehmed and his entourage might have found inspiration upon hearing the Greek speakers refer to the city this way.
With Istanbul as its capital, the Ottoman Empire rose to a massive size, stretching from Baghdad to Yemen to Morocco to Hungary. Over time, the empire became stagnant, swamped in bureaucracy and given to poor leadership. History teaches us that this is the fate of all empires. It was dissolved at the end of the First World War, in which the Ottomans fought a heroic and loosing campaign alongside the Germans. Legendary figures, were born in this fighting: people like Mustafa Kemal Ataturk and Lawrence of Arabia had their stories set in one of the world’s most ancient places. As such, they share their legacies with greats such as Cyrus of the Persians, Alexander of Macedon, Julius Ceasar, and Salahadin. Indeed, the cosmopolitan and ethnically diverse population of Istanbul reminds us that we all do, as human beings.
Though the war was lost, the Turkish nation appears to have found its own identity in the conflict, and in individuals such as their father, Ataturk. Since the founding of the Turkish Republic in 1923, Istanbul has not been the capital of any state, but remains one of the world’s critical arteries. In world trade and Turkish politics, the city retains a loud and stern voice. Today the city is often considered to be the world’s 3rd largest city by population. Yet I found it to be clean, safe, progressive and welcoming. Finally, she and I have been acquainted.
See my Instagram post, with the same featured photo, for more of my pictures of this great city!